Anticipation
by Rosa Heartlily
Summary: Quistis & Seifer get it on!


**Anticipation**

_DISCLAIMER: I do not own any of the characters, settings or creatures from Final Fantasy 8._

_A/N: I originally wrote this for a friend, but then decided it would make a nice Quistis / Seifer fic, so I've tweaked the beginning a little, and extended it quite a lot. Let me know what you think!_

The young woman sat staring out of the dirty window of the train, watching the raindrops inching their way down the outside. There was a laptop on the table before her, but Quistis had not typed anything in nearly ten minutes. The aroma of an almost cold cup of coffee, barely tasted, drifted up to her, and next to it an uneaten sandwich. She twirled the end of her blonde hair around her fingers, her mind far away. She was the only occupant of the SeeD carriage, and there was no sound except for the clacking of the train's wheels beneath her.

'What in the name of Hyne am I _doing_?' she asked herself for the millionth time. Then, a vision of blue, inviting eyes appeared in her mind and a shiver of anticipation ran through her. Answering her own question, she told herself, 'Hang it all! Garden can live without you for a couple of days, and you need a break!'

There were so many experiences that her life choices had denied her – first times, stolen times, throwing-caution-to-the-wind times. Of course, she had had a very first time, but that was ages ago. She struggled for a moment to remember his name before giving it up. For the last few years she had been married to her job, except for that night with Irvine - before he and Selphie were 'official'. Selphie had been off on the Missile Base Mission with Rinoa and Zell. She had thought Squall had chosen her to be on his team because he wanted her; when she realised she was wrong she gave in to Irvine's flirting. But after that, she had gone back to being the Ice Queen. Not that she was complaining, but, occasionally, a voice would whisper in her ear that she might just be missing out on something.

And then had come that night in her room in Deling Hotel, when she had taken a complete chance on a man she hardly knew anymore, and somehow it had turned out to be the best thing she could have done. Lying in her bed the next morning, watching Seifer sleep, she had wondered what madness had come over her. The memories of the night before were… interesting… of course, and she had gone over them in some detail. It was still difficult to realise that they were memories of what she had done – almost impossible to believe who she had done it with – but if nothing else came of it, they just might keep her warm at night.

He lay perfectly still as he slept, but there was a troubled expression on his face rather than the peaceful one she would have expected. She wondered if he had dreams of the things he had been through; she knew that the rest of them did, including her, sometimes. Nightmares of blood and horror that no girl her age should know anything about visited with sudden violence, and left as quickly, leaving only a cloud of vague disquiet in their wake.

She had asked him once what he dreamed about. 'Nothing,' he replied, in strange, dull voice. The emptiness in his eyes had made her shudder, although she could not have said why. She never asked him about dreams again.

When she saw that he was waking up, she pretended to still be asleep. If he regretted it all, she wanted to give him the chance to just get up and leave. There was no reason for them ever to see each other again; he could simply vanish into the morning, as free as when he arrived. She felt his weight shift as he leaned over her, felt his breath on her cheek, and butterfly kisses on that sensitive point just under her ear.

'Morning, sleepyhead,' he smirked, as her eyes opened, and she had the uncomfortable feeling that he knew she had been playing possum.

She rolled onto her back and met his gaze. 'I thought you might have left,' she said quietly.

'Why would I leave without saying "Good Morning"?' he asked, confusion in his eyes.

'You might have thought last night was a mistake…' she replied, surprising herself with a confession that revealed her vulnerability so much.

With a sweep of his arm, he pulled the sheet off her naked body, taking his time to absorb the view before returning to look into her face. 'I don't see any mistakes in this room – do you?'

She shook her head, unable to trust her voice to remain steady with her emotions caught somewhere between shock and joy. That had been all the encouragement he needed, as he swept her away on a new wave of memories to savour.

Since her return to Balamb Garden, they had managed to meet up a couple of times when his new business brought him into the area, but it was not enough. There never seemed to be a chance for her to get away from work for longer than a few hours, and so they had got into the habit of meeting up every so often via webcam. But always on his terms, she realised suddenly. He would contact her when he was free - if she tried to get in touch, he was always busy. She had never questioned whom he might be busy with. What if... She dismissed the thought as unworthy. He had no reason to continue with the relationship unless he wanted to, did he? Over the last few months she had shared all sorts of things about herself, but she still found him a mystery.

But when he was there, he listened, genuinely listened, to all the crappy, petty, insignificant-to-anyone-else things that got in the way of her enjoying her job. He even offered advice on how to deal with some of her more difficult students, and some of it worked, too. They laughed together over their shared past, and she had told him something of what it was like for them, fighting against the Sorceress; but what it was like to be her Knight, he never said, and she did not like to ask.

She had fantasised about making this journey off and on, sometimes half-seriously, usually just to fill her head during the walk from one class to the next. Then, one day, she took it a step further and checked train timetables on the internet. The length of the journey made her shake her head. Half a day to travel from Balamb to Deling – had it always taken that long? At least lunch was included in the price. She would have to take at least three days off work to make the trip worthwhile, which was too long to pass off as a 'quick break'. Fantasy and webcam conversations would just have to do. Having looked once, though, she found herself checking again and again, thinking of reasonable excuses she could give for more than a day's absence from work. Somehow, 'what if I…' became 'when I…' and then there was no turning back.

They had worked out a sketchy intinerary that included dinner on the evening that she arrived, and a shopping trip on the next day. Everything else they had decided to play by ear. The purchase of just the right outfit for dinner had taken some careful planning, and choosing her underwear had taken almost as long. She thought of those scraps of lace and satin tucked away in her bag, that would cover without concealing, a second skin to be peeled away. And she thought too of the hands that would do the peeling, surprisingly sensitive hands for a warrior.

At the end of the journey were hopes as yet unfulfilled – of strong arms and a welcoming kiss, a candle-lit dinner, and lingering pleasures. For now, though, all that was still in the future, still the subject of anticipation.

A voice came over the train's PA system, announcing that they were arriving at Deling Station, and her stomach flipped over. She forced herself to breath, calming the nervous voice that demanded to know what she would do if he was not there. 'I'll make my own way to his new flat,' she told herself firmly, checking that she still had his address in her handbag.

She packed the laptop away in its bag, making sure she had not left anything behind. The end of the coffee went into the bin, and then she pulled on her jacket, picked up her holdall, laptop bag and handbag and left the carriage. Galbadia attracted people for many different reasons – business, pleasure and everything in between – and the door of the train was crowded with passengers waiting to get off.

The train pulled gently into the station, and she trooped off with everyone else. She waited for the other passengers to stream past her, and then scanned the station. There he was, leaning against a pillar, one side of his mouth lifted in his usual sardonic smile. He raised one hand in a kind of casual half wave, but she could see that he was actually tense and expectant.

He watched her struggle along the platform with the holdall that suddenly seemed determined to wrap itself around her knees. As she reached him, she dumped it at his feet, but he kept his hands stuffed firmly in his pockets. 'You OK with that?' he asked, deadpan.

She glared at him. 'Yes, I can manage, thanks for asking.'

'Well, just let me know if you need a hand.'

'Thanks,' she replied, shortly.

'My pleasure.'

She reached for it, but he got there before her, grinning at her irritation. He tested the weight, and shook his head. 'What have you _got_ in here?!'

'Just a few essentials,' she shrugged. 'Now, where's this fabulous new flat you've been boasting about?'

'It's just around the corner. Let's go!'

They left the station, a small gap between them, the thing with the holdall hanging over them. She told him about her journey and all the work she had not done on her laptop. He told her about the new client who was paying well enough for him to afford a decent place to live, and a proper office in Deling city centre.

The new flat really was 'just around the corner', for which she was grateful. Small talk had never really been her forte, especially when she was irritated with the other party. If the return journey was not so long, she might have simply turned around and gone back home. She really did not need Seifer's mind games. He led her up to the main entrance and keyed in the entry code. 'I'll have to teach you that,' he said, as he held the door open and she walked through.

The doors of the lift whispered open and they stepped inside. It had to be the slowest lift in the world, she thought, as it made its way upwards at what felt like a snail's pace. At last, however, they reached the tenth floor, and got out. He entered a second code onto the key pad next to the door, and finally she was inside his home.

It was decorated in as minimal and masculine way as she had expected. There was wood-effect laminated flooring throughout, and the decor was muted and a little sombre. Small touches, like all the doors being replaced with beaded curtains, relieved the heaviness. At the end of the dark hall were three doorways, one straight ahead and one to either side.

'Go straight through,' he said, entering room to the left with her holdall.

Doing as he told her, she found herself in the living room. She guessed that the furniture, all wooden, was second-hand, since it was mismatched and looked well-used, though also well cared for. An enormous flat screen television was fixed to one wall, with a games console and satellite decoder sat on the unit beneath it. Video games, CDs and DVDs filled racks along another wall. Hyperion hung on the wall above them, the light glinting off its still razor-sharp blade. A small table and a pair of chairs stood opposite the doorway, and another doorway led off to the right, presumably to the kitchen. She dropped her laptop and handbag on one of the two couches, and moved over to the window.

'I feel like I should have carried you over the threshold, or something,' he said. She turned, and found him leaning against the door jam, his hands in his pockets, again. He had taken his coat off; his white tee-shirt and dark-wash jeans showed off his broad shoulders and trim waist. Something about him attracted her on an instinctive level; when she was close to him, she found it hard to think of anything other than connecting her body to his as quickly as possible. He asked her something, but distracted by the direction her thoughts were taking, she did not understand what he said. 'What?'

'Your jacket – I can hang it up, if you want. That is, if you're planning on stopping for a bit. You can keep it on, if you're leaving.' He shrugged, as if unconcerned either way.

Smiling ruefully at him, she slipped her jacket off. She walked across the room, and held it out to him. He caught hold of her hand as well, pulling her close.

'I haven't said "hello" properly, yet, have I?' he asked, wrapping his arms around her and covering her mouth with his before she had a chance to answer. The kiss took her breath away, and all she could do was try to keep up. When he finally let her go, she looked into his eyes, seeing a mix of desire and uncertainty in their depths. 'I… I'm glad you're here,' he said, his voice low, the sudden honesty taking her by surprise.

'I'm glad, too,' Quistis answered. 'But I feel really grimy after that train journey! May I…'

He placed a finger over her lips. 'I want you to treat this place as if it's your own.'

'In that case, I am _going_ to take a shower, if you'd be kind enough to point me in the direction of my holdall and then the shower?'

'Why do you need your holdall to take a shower?'

'Well, it contains a few minor essentials, like shower gel, shampoo…'

'Oh, yeah. Well, it's through there.' He waved a hand towards the hallway behind him before heading through the other door, muttering something about coffee. With a sigh, she found her own way to the bedroom where her holdall sat on the bed. A couple of nudes, both of which were blonde she noticed, hung on the walls.

'Hope you like the art!' he called through. 'I just saw them going cheap, and I needed something to put up, so…'

'They're fine!' she replied. She rummaged in the holdall for her wash bag and dressing gown, and went into the bathroom. The shower was positioned in the middle of the bath, and, instead of a shower curtain, there was a glass screen.

She undressed quickly, and turned on the shower. Checking that the water temperature was just right, she stepped in and closed the screen over. She had just lathered herself all over with her honeysuckle-scented shower gel, when she was surprised to find another pair of hands massaging it into her skin.

'Need any help?' Seifer murmured into her ear.

She turned quickly, the water plastering her hair over her face. By the time she had pushed it out of her eyes he had unhooked the shower head and was using it to rinse the shower gel away, allowing the spray to linger here and there, the touch of each tiny jet of water surprisingly arousing. Suddenly, he reached behind her and turned off the hot water completely, leaving her gasping under the icy spray. Laughing, he restored the temperature to what it was to begin with, and then found other ways to warm her.

When they had finished, they sat in the living room sipping his freshly-brewed coffee, and nibbling on Seifer's 'speciality' - cheese on toast. Her stomach had started growling half-way through their shower, finally protesting about the lack of lunch. Quistis had wrapped herself in her dressing gown but her lover had simply thrown a towel around his waist. He sat on the opposite couch, his long, lean legs stretched out, one thigh exposed because the edges of the towel had slipped apart. His tanned skin was stretched taut over firm muscle; he was still working out, obviously, still fit and ready for anything...

'…what do you think?' he asked, the question breaking through her thoughts once more. How was it that he could affect her like this?

Flustered, she tore her eyes away from his towel-clad hips and met his amused gaze. 'Think? About what?'

'Where we should go for dinner. Unless you want to move straight on to the afters?'

She could feel herself blushing furiously, which only seemed to entertain him even more. 'You are going to take me out and buy me dinner,' she stated firmly, '_all three courses_!'

He laughed out loud, and gave her a mock salute. 'Yes, Instructor.'

'You always did know how to wind me up!' she snapped.

'I always fancied the pants off you.'

It was the last thing she had expected him to say, but a thrill ran through her as she heard the words. When she was his instructor, all she had ever felt was frustration at a good mind going to waste – or was it? Perhaps she had felt the attraction, even then, but professionalism had kept it in check. And she had been looking in a different direction at that time, too.

'Penny for them?'

'They aren't worth that much. Well, if you're taking me out, I'd better get dressed!'

'Make sure whatever you wear can be taken off quickly,' he drawled, giving her his sexiest smile and sending goose-bumps up her spine.

He irritated her as well, though, the way he sat there with that self-satisfied smirk on his face whilst she danced to his tune. So, she now fancied the pants off him, too - but she did not have to let him see her drooling after him like a love-sick cadet. It was time to redress the balance a little.

She untied the belt of her dressing gown, allowing the garment to fall to the floor. Then she stepped over to where he sat, his expression clearly telling her that he was surprised by her actions but was definitely enjoying himself. The power of her own body over him was something she intended to use to full advantage. She pulled the towel open and straddled his hips, lowering herself almost all the way. When he tugged at her hips in an effort to bring them further down, she batted his hands away.

'Do you want us to continue with this?' she asked, looking him straight in the eyes.

He raised his own hips a little, giving her an indication of the urgency of the situation. 'You know I do!'

'I don't just mean this, now - I mean this relationship.'

'Quistis! This is no time to get all deep and...'

'What's wrong with going deep?' she asked, a teasing smile on her lips. She descended just a little, just enough to make them both want her to go further.

He took hold of her hips again, but this time to keep her where she was. There seemed to be some kind of struggle going on within him; and then he evidently came to a decision.

'Because I'm scared, OK?' he replied, fiercely, looking anywhere but into her eyes. 'I'm scared to love you, because I know you'll leave me once you realise what a waste of space I really am. That's why I'm always teasing you, pushing your buttons. Some part of me wants to give you an excuse for leaving, because I know I don't deserve you.'

Gently, she placed one hand against his cheek, bringing his face round so that he had to look at her. 'I'm not going anywhere,' she told him softly. And then her mouth quirked into a smile, breaking the tension between them. 'At least, I won't be - as long as you don't use that name again!'

'Name? Which name? Oh, "Instr...".'

'Yes, _that_ one.'

'OK, it's a deal. I'm sorry.'

She finally lowered herself all the way down, settling herself around him. 'Good boy,' she whispered.

They needed to shower again before they got dressed, and it was getting late by the time they finally left. The meal, however, was delicious, although he winced when he got the bill. She tucked her hand through his arm as they left the restaurant, taking a deep breath of the night air. They strolled through Deling Park, passing other couples whispering secrets in the dark.

'Ever done it outdoors?' he asked, suddenly.

'No, as it happens. Have you?'

'Loads of times.'

'Really? I've always thought it must be terribly uncomfortable, not to mention chilly.'

'Not when you're hot stuff like me!'

'Hot stuff, eh? You'll have to show me sometime.'

'The shower didn't convince you?'

'Well, it was a good start, I suppose. But I think I need a little more to go on than something that only lasted as long as it took the coffee to brew.'

'I can last as long as you need, babe,' he said, his voice losing the bantering tone he had used earlier.

Another shiver of anticipation ran up her spine. She felt as nervous as a teenager on her first date, which was completely ridiculous given their ages and past history. But the butterflies continued to flutter around her stomach.

Back at the flat, he left her in the living room while he went in search of a bottle of wine from the kitchen. He soon returned, holding two enormous wine glasses, filled to the brim with a rich Merlot. Handing one to her, he clinked his against it.

'Cheers!'

She had barely swallowed her first mouthful, however, before he had placed both glasses on the coffee table and laid her flat on the couch, all in one fluid movement. His kisses were like fire, burning against her lips, her throat, her chest. Her sheer black blouse seemed to open of its own accord, as his lips travelled further down.

'What happened to taking our time?' she asked, her uneven breathing making any speech difficult.

He looked up at her from his position between her thighs. 'I've waited long enough – haven't you?'

All she could do was nod silently in reply and give herself up to him, to swap anticipation for fulfilment.


End file.
